Christmas Day
by Lord Kristine
Summary: Claire and Owen's first Christmas together.


Owen smiled as he awoke to the pleasant sensation of being wrapped in Claire's arms. He wondered whether or not he should move around, because he didn't want to wake her, but at the same time, he'd very much like to give her a kiss, even if that meant she'd be aroused from her slumber. It was a tough decision. In the end, she'd probably be happy to sacrifice a few minutes of dozing for a smooch. Owen sighed happily and reached forward, but something made him stop. His hand was now grasping something that felt a lot like a spiked tail. In fact, it _was_ a spiked tail, and it was attached to Claire. Oh, right. She was a dinosaur now. That could be a problem.

Owen sat up in bed and stared at his new girlfriend. She was green with a straw-colored belly and reddish plates. She had a frill, three horns, and a beak which was currently dripping with drool. She made deep rasping sounds as her belly rose and fell, prompting Owen to wonder if she was okay. He deduced that she was probably just breathing heavily because she was a dinosaur, and not because there was anything wrong with her. Then again, the thing that was wrong with her could be that _she was a dinosaur_.

Owen shook his head quickly. He couldn't allow himself to think that way. Claire was still Claire, after all, and he loved her with all of his heart. Even in this scaly, slobbering form her beauty shone through. It was true that she looked like herself, even when she wasn't, and it wouldn't be too far off base to say that she was the most Claire-ish stegoceratops Owen had ever seen. Or Stegoclaireatops, as it were. In any case, they were together now, so who cared if she weighed three tons and was currently leaking- Oh, god. Was her nose dripping with snot? Maybe he should get her a tissue. She might just have a wet nose like a dog. A sentient dog.

Owen took a deep breath and crawled towards Claire's sleeping form. He took a good look at her face so that he could get used to it by the time she woke up. She snorted quietly, making him flinch. When he was sure that she was still sleeping, he got closer. It was strange how much she still looked like herself, even though she had a big, long snout and a horn on her nose. He could see her human self through the dinosaur, and that made him happy. She was still pretty in her own way, and perhaps even a little prettier in some aspects of her appearance. There was no makeup to conceal her freckles, for example, which Owen quite liked. They were rather cute on her, and he found himself smiling as he ran his hand over them.

Without warning, Claire's eyes opened. Although the action was silent and not particularly fast, it frightened Owen. Not enough for him to react, of course, but his stomach flipped a little. When he saw the trusting calmness in her eyes, however, the shocked feeling disappeared. He gave a lopsided smile, which he feared was slightly dopey.

"Good morning."

"Good morning," she replied in a melodious tone that made his heart flutter, "Did you have a good sleep?"

"Yeah . . ."

"Good."

She stretched out her neck and gave him a kiss. Owen ran his hand over her scaly cheek, instantly forgetting that she no longer belonged to his species. Kissing Claire was as good as it had always been, and it was a relief that some things wouldn't change in their new relationship. The best parts of their dynamic would remain as wonderful as ever . . . although Owen had to wonder if they were still anatomically compatible. How would he go about asking her something like that? Maybe he should wait until their relationship wasn't so new. Yes, that was a good idea. She'd be more open once they solidified their feelings. Not that she was closed off _now_. All things considered, she was rather chipper. She bent forward with a big yawn (which was also kind of a moo) and shook herself off.

"So I was thinking that we should go out today and do something special. It's about time we-"

As she caught sight of her hand (or was it a foot now?), she froze in shock. All at once, Owen realized why she was so unfazed by her transformation. In the drowsiness of morning, she had forgotten about the events that had taken place over the course of the previous week. Now, as she sat petrified on the bed, foot held in front of her, Owen could see each stage of realization flickering across her face. Slowly, she was remembering the trip to Cambodia, the flying whale, the colony of stegoceratopses, her deceased adoptive daughter, the battle with a demonic spinosaurus, and finally, her permanent transformation. She continued to stare at her big green foot, chest rising and falling rapidly, perhaps hoping to wish it away or discover that she was still dreaming. But she wasn't. This was really happening. She was a dinosaur, and she would stay a dinosaur for the rest of her life.

Owen felt his heart drop as her lip started quivering. Not good. Not good. He had to stop her before- No, it was too late. Tears started pouring down her face (faster than usual, because they were large and her scales were smooth). Her face twisted into an expression of utter agony, and she fell forward on her belly, weeping into her front feet. Owen wrapped his arms around her neck, wondering how to comfort a dinosaur. He realized that this was the wrong question to ask, because he should have been wondering how to comfort _Claire_. But Claire _was_ a dinosaur, so would she respond better to positive feedback in the form of a carrot or something? Maybe he could feed her until she stopped crying. That might work. She couldn't sob if her mouth was full of food.

"Claire . . . Are you hungry?"

She whimpered lightly. Owen wasn't sure if she'd heard him.

"Claire? . . ."

"My life is _ruined_!" she shrieked.

Owen cleared his throat.

"No. No, it's not. Everything is going to be okay. I mean, we're together, right? That's what really matters."

Claire gave her reply in the form of an unsteady noise that was halfway between a whine and a rumble. Owen sighed and began to rub her snout.

"Claire, it's okay. We can figure this out together. I promised to stay with you, and I intend to stay true to my word. I'm here for you. Okay?"

She lay her head in his lap quite suddenly. He held up his hands in surprise, then rubbed her cheek with his thumb. She shook violently with each sob. He looked down at her with an awkward frown and kept stroking her snout. They sat like this for a long time. After a while, Claire began to calm down. Her sobbing devolved into a sniffle, and she eventually wiped her nose with an air of finality.

"I'm sorry," she muttered shakily, "I'm just not used to this whole . . . dinosaur thing."

Owen patted her side gently.

"It's okay. You don't have to like it right away. We have some time to figure things out."

 _Like whether or not they could still have sex._

Owen shook the thought quickly. He didn't want to analyze their relationship in such a brash manner. What was important was how Claire felt. He would do anything to keep her from crying again. She seemed to have recovered, though. That was good.

"Claire, do you want to go downstairs?" he asked, still hoping to carry out his food plan.

She looked around uncertainly.

"I don't know. This place gives me the creeps. Who knows what Barnaby left behind?"

Owen gulped. It was true that the deceased man from whom they had inherited the house was insane (to say the least), and if his freaky-as-hell Jesus paintings were any indicator of the kind of objects he kept in his home, they were in for a day of nervous wandering. Still, they couldn't stay in the bedroom all day . . .

"We can go down to the main floor. I doubt there's anything dangerous in the living room."

"I dunno," Claire muttered, "That taxidermy deer with missing eyes looks kind of moldy . . ."

"Ellie said we have nothing to worry about."

"In passing. She might not have meant it."

"She seems to know what she's talking about. I mean, she _is_ a winged semi-omnipotent deity who's been following our every move since you first changed in an attempt to better our lives for no apparent reason."

Claire sighed.

"Fine. I guess it would be beneficial to explore a little bit."

Owen smiled.

"Good. Let's see if we can forage for our breakfast."

As it turned out, they couldn't. Not only was everything in Barnaby's fridge expired, but some of the exposed food items lay directly beside a bag of rat poison, which had done its job, judging by the frozen vermin lying on the peas. Owen winced and slammed the fridge shut, trying not to throw up.

"Okay, so that's a no-go. We'd better move this fridge to the basement . . ."

When he turned around, Claire was staring at the wall. More specifically, she was reading a calendar. Owen walked over to her slowly, wondering what had caught her attention. She stared ahead vacantly, refusing to tear her eyes from the bright red X's on each box.

"Owen, when did Barnaby die?"

He rubbed his chin.

"A few days ago. Why?"

When she didn't respond, Owen examined the calendar, hoping to unravel the mystery himself. When he saw where the X's ended, he did a bit of math (something he was _not_ good at) and breathed a sigh of wonderment.

"It's Christmas."

"Yeah," Claire whispered.

After a beat, Owen grabbed his hair with unbridled stress.

"Shit! I didn't get you anything!"

Claire shook her head.

"No, it's fine. I didn't get you anything either."

Owen cocked his head and smiled nostalgically.

"Hey, remember last year when-"

"Yes," she said tersely.

He bit his lip.

"Yeah . . . Should we _do_ something?"

"Like what?"

He shrugged.

"I dunno. Decorate a tree, maybe?"

"We don't have anything to put on the branches."

"Right . . ."

There was an awkward silence. Owen sighed and turned around.

"Well, Ellie left us her number, so we could ask her if she has any food-"

Claire held up her foot.

"Hang on. We need to phone in to work first. We've been gone for a week. They'll be wondering what happened to us."

Owen wrung his hands awkwardly.

"Claire . . . What happened at Jurassic World . . . I- I just don't think it's likely that we even _have_ jobs anymore . . ."

Claire blinked.

"Right. That's absolutely, one hundred percent right. I have no job, I'm a dinosaur, and everything is shit. Fantastic."

Owen knelt in front of her and started stroking her snout again. He was starting to like the way her face felt.

"It's not so bad," he cooed, "We can get through this . . . together."

He wasn't sure he even believed his own words. He had lapsed into a state of vague, unhelpful, foolishly positive ramblings. They had worked before, but Claire was starting to catch on. She made eye contact with him, and something in her gaze made him nervous.

"Owen . . . Things are going to change. You know that, right?"

His Adam's apple jumped as he swallowed nervously.

"What do you mean?"

She gave him a guilty look.

"I'm a dinosaur. I won't be able to do certain things . . . like going out in public and stuff."

Whew. For a second, Owen thought she was going in a _completely_ different direction with that. He rubbed her snout a little faster and kissed her front horn.

"I know. I'll do everything I can to help you lead a normal life. I'll even stop you from getting cabin fever or whatever. We can pick up some medicine just in case, though."

Claire stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. Owen didn't know what he had said to make her cackle like this, but he was glad he did. As she giggled and snorted, he ran his fingers down the side of her frill. She smiled at him with tears in her eyes and nudged his chest with her beak. He was starting to like that kind of thing too.

"Merry Christmas, you big dummy!" she chuckled.

"Merry Christmas to you too," Owen mumbled, "I'm sorry for not getting you anything. Maybe I can replace that necklace you lost? . . ."

Claire shook her head.

"I only wore it because I thought it kept me from changing. I guess it didn't matter in the end . . ."

Owen cleared his throat in an attempt to divert her attention from the gloomy thought she was conceiving.

"Well you still have the one _I_ gave you, right? You could wear that instead."

Claire smiled.

"Thanks, Owen, but it's back home, and it wouldn't fit me anymore."

"You can wear it on your tail."

Claire frowned. Owen realized that he had offended her. He tugged on his shirt collar awkwardly.

". . . or not."

"I don't need you making smart remarks like that!" she barked.

"I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings . . ." Owen muttered with regret.

" _Feelings_? What _am_ I, six years old?"

Sometimes, she acted like she was. Regardless, Owen did not point this out.

"I'm sorry, Claire. Really, I am. I'm not thinking straight. I guess I'm just disappointed in myself for forgetting Christmas. I mean, we've been through a lot of shit, but I wish our first holiday as a couple could have been special. It kind of is, in a way, because we're spending it together. That's enough, I think."

Claire snorted.

"Well, I don't usually spend Christmas with anyone, so there's that . . ."

All of a sudden, her face fell.

"OH MY GOD! KAREN!"

She rushed across the room and pulled an old-looking phone off of its receiver with her beak. She yanked it so hard that the cord went straight. Quickly, she placed it on the ground and began pounding it with her feet.

"No, no, no, no, no! This isn't right! I've been missing for a week and I haven't told her _anything_! We were supposed to be sisters again and I screwed it up . . ."

Owen winced as she began crying again. The phone was beeping on the ground, because she had not managed to dial a single digit with her trunkish feet. She covered her eyes and let out an agonized moo. Owen crept over and sat down beside her, patting her shoulder gently.

"Shhh . . . It's okay, Clairebear. Tell me the number, and I'll dial it for you."

She nodded hopefully.

"849-1138."

Owen pressed the keys.

"One . . . One . . . Three . . . Eight . . . Okay, here you go."

He handed the phone to her, and she pinched it between her front feet clumsily. She looked rather ridiculous holding such a tiny device in her elephantine hands. Even so, she seemed desperate to speak with her sister, and probably didn't care. While the phone was ringing, her beak began to twist into a pained grimace.

"Oh, god . . . What am I going to say? What do I _tell_ her?"

"The truth, probably."

Claire shook her head.

"I can't. She'd never believe me. She'd never-"

'Hello?' a voice crackled from the other end of the line.

"Karen!"

' _Claire_?! Where have you _been_? Oh my god, we were so _worried_! We thought you were dead or- or- Are you _okay_? Do you need a _ransom_?'

Claire smiled, tears of joy brimming at her eyes.

"No, Karen. I don't need a ransom. I've been- I mean- I'm- Look, I have a lot of things to tell you, but they can wait. For now, I want you to talk and talk and never stop."

There was a pause.

'Claire, did your kidnappers drug you up or something?'

Claire laughed.

"No, Karen. I'm with Owen."

' _Owen drugged you_?!'

"No! Of course not! We're in Tennessee. It's nothing sinister, I promise. We just moved in together, that's all."

Oh, it sounds so _amazing_ when Claire says it. They've moved in together. They've moved in together. They're a couple, and they moved in together.

Owen relished these words with a dopey smile on his face. Claire nudged him playfully, then placed the phone on the ground and sat in front of it, making herself comfortable.

"Karen, if you're not too busy, I'd like you to speak with Owen and me for a while. It's Christmas, and even though we can't be together physically, I think we need to feel each other's presence. Can we do that?"

'Of course. That's what sisters are for.'

Owen had never seen Claire so happy. As she spoke to Karen over the phone, twirling the cord around her tail every now and then, he was sure that she was getting back to normal. After a period of grief, the sun was finally peeking through the clouds. Claire was happy, and happy she would stay. That was Owen's theory, anyway. This whole dinosaur relationship thing was going to be a breeze.

After all, how hard could it be?


End file.
